


Scars

by moves_like_water



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal draws Will, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post Season 3, Scar Worship, Scars, self-conscious Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moves_like_water/pseuds/moves_like_water
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 3, Hannibal draws Will and Will gets very flustered when Hannibal tries to show him how beautiful he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever posting a fic, so let me know what you think! It wasn't beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes. If you enjoyed please leave a comment or kudos, it's much appreciated!

Hannibal hummed contentedly to himself as he listened to the faint scratching of his pencil on paper and the shallow sounds of Will’s breathing. Mornings like this were a particular kind of beautiful, a domestic and simple aspect of his new life that he could have never imagined would one day be his. He glanced constantly between his lover’s sleeping form and his sketch. There were hundreds of these by now, drawings he’d made of Will Graham. He’d drawn so many in the time that the two men had known each other. The ones left in his abandoned Baltimore home, the ones he’d done in his time behind bars, and perhaps somewhere the drawings he’d mailed to Will remained hidden in his old home undiscovered by his ex wife. He would never ask but he liked to think that Will had kept them.

A gentle stir on the bed caught his attention and he looked over to where Will was stretching slowly awake, eyes still closed. There was something about his movements that remained so fluid even in his sluggish state. His skin was so smooth, flushed ever so slightly from the heat of the sun filtering through the window. Last night he hadn’t bothered to put clothes on and Hannibal gave a silent prayer for the view he was provided with. Will’s head turned toward him, lying on his stomach with his head on the pillow, sheets draped lazily over his legs. His eyes flickered open and when he noticed Hannibal watching him, he smiled. Hannibal would never tire of seeing that smile. Just a tiny flash of teeth and eyes bright as ever. In moments like these his heart gave the tiniest flutter, Will Graham being the only person to ever affect him this way. He wouldn’t want it any different.

“Good morning, Will,” he said softly.

“Good morning, Hannibal,” Will replied lazily, pressing his face further into his pillow.

A delighted shudder coursed through Hannibal’s body whenever he heard Will say his name. The first couple years of their friendship the younger man neglected to ever use the name to his face, whether he realized it or not. He’d never forget the first time he’d heard the younger man say his name. In another world, the catacombs beneath Florence. The tentative, yet confident way it had rolled off his tongue had been as good as an “I love you” in Hannibal’s book. Though he had never asked Will, he was certain the meaning of that moment was something they could agree on.

Hannibal longed to go over to him and press a kiss to his temple, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to change his view. Through the slightly drawn curtain a golden ray of light fell across Will, causing him to almost glow. The same light made his eyes appear lit from the inside out, the blue seeming to stretch on for miles; Hannibal thought of Will sailing across the ocean for him all those years ago.

Will started to move once more, about to get up. “Wait,” Hannibal said.

Will raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you ever get tired of staring?”

“No,” Hannibal answered truthfully. “And I would like to remember this moment.”

“You must have hundreds of these moments in your memory palace by now,” Will said through a yawn.

“Perhaps I have. Though I don’t suppose one more could hurt.”

“I suppose not.”

Will lay there for a few minutes longer, much too short in Hannibal’s opinion, but who was he to complain? Eventually he shifted, stepping lightly on the floor as if testing the temperature of a pool before jumping in. He wrapped one of the light blue sheets from the bed around himself and walked over to the desk where Hannibal had been sitting. Will leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hannibal, laying his chin on the older man’s shoulder.

“Drawing me again, Doctor Lecter?”

“It’s my duty to document your beauty as best I can. Moments like these are too precious to ignore.”

Will chuckled dismissively at this but Hannibal could see the tiniest pink flush that crossed his cheeks. “You’re unbearable.”

Hannibal smiled and turned his head to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Will rubbed his face against the fabric of Hannibal’s sweater in response. He hummed softly as he breathed in Hannibal’s scent.

“I miss your old sweater. The red one.”

“It’s been years since I’ve worn it.”

“It’s a classic.” A snort. “I wonder if Molly’s gotten rid of it.”

“You kept my sweater, Will?”

“I kept a lot of things.”

Before Hannibal could respond, Will changed the subject by refocusing his attention on Hannibal’s sketch. He stood up and plucked the sketchbook off the desk, holding it open and scrutinizing his lover’s work. Hannibal watched him carefully as his eyes darted across the page. He pursed his lips ever so slightly and frowned.

“You always draw my scars.”

Will unconsciously rubbed at his newest scar, the one he’d gotten from their final battle with the dragon; it was fully healed but the skin was still pink and fresh rather than the stark white of old wounds. In the time since that night, Hannibal had often pretended not to notice the way Will would look at himself in the mirror. A man of simple tastes, Will had never been vain, but often now his gaze would linger on his own reflection with eyes crinkled in displeasure. There were now two relatively large scars on his face, one on his forehead cut by Hannibal himself, and a stab wound on his right cheek, a gift courtesy of Francis Dolarhyde. Though Hannibal would never feel guilty for his role in the marks, he only wished that Will didn’t see them as a disfigurement, but as a reminder of all that the two of them had been through. He certainly didn’t see his own scars as such, perhaps he got the occasional pang of shame at allowing himself to be compromised by another, but the feeling was quickly overwhelmed by pride in his partner.

He stood up and walked over to Will, taking the drawing from his hands gently. “They’re a part of you, Will. Just as beautiful as the rest. A sign of a life well-lived.”

“They’re scars, Hannibal. There’s nothing beautiful about them.”

“Will.”

Will didn’t respond. He walked over to the other side of the room and shifted the curtain aside, gazing out absently while still wrapped in his sheet. The light shone on him once more, and as always, Will was breathtaking. Hannibal watched him for a moment, taking in every minute detail- the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, the curves of his musculature, the way his dark, untamed curls framed his face. He strode over to him silently and if Will noticed he didn’t show it. He shuddered slightly when Hannibal wrapped his arms around him and pressed against him.

“You’re insecure about your appearance. I can’t have that, Will. Of course, it’s for entirely selfish reasons. I prefer my partner to have confidence, perhaps a bit of vanity, not that I don’t have enough.”

Will smiled at this. Hannibal didn’t often make jokes, but they’d become more common since they’d left the country after surviving their cliff dive. It gave Will immense satisfaction when he acted like this. To Hannibal’s distaste, he often noted aloud that he was becoming more normal; a result of Will’s influence, no doubt.

“That being said, Will, I need you to understand how beautiful you are.”

He shifted the younger man around in his arms until they were facing. His hands trailed from Will’s neck, down his arms, bringing the sheet off with the movement, until Will was standing completely naked in front of him. He cocked an eyebrow at him but did nothing to move or to cover himself up. Hannibal felt weak under his gaze, his beloved had come so far from the quiet man who didn’t like eye contact.

Hannibal took Will by the hand and walked him over to the mirror that hung above the dresser in their bedroom. It was wide enough to show both men fully and much of the room behind them. He stood behind Will for a moment, leaning his head down and kissing his neck gently. His fingers combed lazily through Will’s tousled and slightly tangled curls.

“Hannibal.” Will murmured, eyes drifting closed.

“Eyes open please, love.”   

Will sighed but did as he was told, eyes following as Hannibal shifted to the left side of Will’s body. Hannibal’s fingers brushed across the white scar tissue on his left arm, soon to be replaced by his lips. He kissed along the length of the mark, nipping at the skin occasionally.

“What are you doing?” Will asked, voice airy. Since their relationship had become physical the both of them were so sensitive to any sort of touch. After so many years of denying themselves the simplest form of pleasure, even a gentle caress was enough to get the hearts of both men pounding. They were definitely in what could be described as a honeymoon phase, constantly touching, kissing, drinking in one another in every way possible.

“You tried to kill me. In that moment I loved you more than I had ever before. Of course, since then you have surprised me in much greater ways.”

“Mmm.” Will agreed.

Hannibal shifted yet again, lowering himself to become level with the puckered wound across his stomach. Like the rest, he felt no guilt for having left this mark on Will, though he could feel him tense up when his fingers brushed along its length. “I’d never had my heart broken before. I never thought that it could be broken. That I could love. Then you came along, and you showed me.”

Hannibal’s fingers dug into Will’s hips as he drew his lips across the scar. He didn’t even need to see Will’s face to feel every shift in his emotion, sense what he was thinking. Right now he was trying to be angry and failing because of how genuine Hannibal’s words were. At the same time he was becoming increasingly frustrated at the warmth of Hannibal’s breath on his lower abdomen and simultaneous lack of contact where heat was rising between his legs. Hannibal paused a moment with his head pressed to Will’s stomach before getting to his feet and pressing his fingers to the bullet wound on his left shoulder.

“Forgiveness.”

“Hannibal,” Will protested. To his distaste and Hannibal’s pleasure his voice came out little more than a whine.

“Patience, darling.”

Hannibal reached Will’s forehead, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead where the thin mark of a bone saw blade remained. He drew his lips away and his eyes met Will’s and he stood without speaking for a moment, entranced, as always, by the delicate blue color.

“I wanted to consume you in the only way I thought I could. Wanted you to be a part of me. Avoid the separation that would kill us both.”

“Selfish.”

“Yes. I am grateful in more ways than I could ever say that we were interrupted.”

Their eyes remained locked for the time being as Hannibal reached up to stroke the stab wound on the left side of Will’s face. “This was our becoming. Our rebirth that brought us to the life we lead now. The most beautiful moment of my life. Of our life together. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Hannibal pulled Will forward and allowed the other man to lay against him. Their arms wrapped around each other and Will burrowed his face in the hollow between Hannibal’s chin and chest. Hannibal closed his eyes and rested his own head on top of Will’s. It wasn’t unlike the night that the two stood atop the cliff after slaying the dragon. They were so content and so at ease in this moment that Hannibal felt helpless. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed this feeling in his time with Will, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. There were so many things he’d never experienced until Will, love, helplessness, fear,  joy. If he’d known that the man would stir up so much emotion in him when they first met he might have run. Now he could only feel grateful for all the ways that Will had changed him.

Will tilted his head back up to look at the other man, his arms still wrapped tightly around him. “I love you, Hannibal.”

Hannibal breathed in deeply with his eyes closed, opening them again to brush a stray curl out of his beloved’s eyes before they pressed their lips together. Will’s fingers threaded through Hannibal’s hair and pulled him closer, hungry for contact. Will’s hips bucked involuntarily and he broke off the kiss, looking at Hannibal with wide eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re still wearing clothes.”

Hannibal licked his lips and blinked, failing to ignore the heat pooling in his abdomen. “Do you see how beautiful you are, Will?”

Will’s eyes narrowed at the change of subject. “I see you,” he responded.

“And?”

“And I want to fuck you.”

Hannibal clicked his tongue. “Not the answer we’re looking for, though all in due time.”

Will parted his lips and stared at Hannibal’s. “I see the ugly parts of myself in you. And I see you take them and make them into something beautiful. I see you accepting me in all the ways that nobody else could.”

“You are beautiful, my love. In every sense of the word.”

Hannibal breathed in sharply as Will’s fingers brushed underneath the hem of his sweater. “I believe you,” Will whispered. He didn’t give Hannibal a chance to respond as he lifted the soft fabric off of his torso. “Let’s go back to bed.”

It was Will’s turn to take Hannibal by the arm and although he wasn’t gentle, Hannibal couldn’t find it in himself to complain. 


End file.
